


An Abundance of Cecils

by 1oneironaut



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: (more like: twosome with too many Cecils), (no tentacles here sorry), Cecil is Mostly Human, Established Relationship, Foursome - M/M/M/M, M/M, Multi, porn with the minimum amount of plot possible, whatever consenting growups can do on a bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 14:34:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/967083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1oneironaut/pseuds/1oneironaut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being in Night Vale gave him the chance to explore a version of reality he never knew to exist. Being with Cecil gave him the chance to explore fantasies he never knew he had.<br/>(Spoiler-free, un-beta'd one-shot.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Abundance of Cecils

For a scientist, reality is a system of coordinates, waiting to be analyzed and explained, deconstructed to its foundations and presented in a string of complex functions. That was the core of his education, from primary school to doctorate studies, and one of his most solid beliefs. However, when one steps into a place like Night Vale, where the concept of reality is hazy on weekdays and most weekends, and traditionally fictitious events were part of the daily report, one had to rearrange his view of the world, if one was intent on surviving.

And Carlos was doing quite well, at least most of the days. For someone whose knowledge of the paranormal came only from a couple of TV series he had watched in his teens and the horror novels that kept him company during long hours of commute, he managed not only to make it through mortally dangerous situations, but to also peek through the ripped seams of that different kind of reality Night Vale had to offer. Of course, it wasn’t always easy to conform to whatever whimsical absurdity this town could come up with.

Like, say, having three Cecil Baldwins banging at his front door at midnight.

“Carlos!” the three identical men exclaimed in unison, their voices shaking with fear.

Carlos was dumb-founded and stepped back, allowing the men to enter his laboratory/living space without a word. At first, he thought this was an optical illusion, caused by long hours of work in front of a computer screen or a hallucination from that weird but addictive brew of coffee Old Woman Josie had offered him weeks ago and vaguely tasted of persimmon. But no, there were actually three men, all looking exactly like his boyfriend, to the point that he could not tell apart the original from the clones, if that was the case.

“Oh Carlos, my dear Carlos!” the Cecils said, and moved forward to envelop Carlos in a hug. Having one Cecil embrace him was a pleasant wave of warmth, but having three grown men wrapped around his torso on a hot summer night was somewhat overwhelming. Carlos let out a sigh, as his mind was rapidly skimming through possible explanations of this weird phenomenon.

“Cecil…” he started, not sure to which one of the men he was addressing, “…care to explain what is going on?”  
“Oh, I guess I should.” one of the Cecils, the one that had wrapped around his left hand and shoulder said. “This probably doesn’t make quite much sense to you.” a second Cecil added, the one that had nested his head under Carlos’ jaw. “Could we have a seat, please?” the third Cecil finished the statement, lifting his head off Carlos’ right shoulder blade.

‘Remarkable.’ Carlos thought, making his way to the kitchen. ‘They are identical and seem to complement each other, not act individually.’

The three Cecils sat around the kitchen table, occupying all three chairs that were in Carlos’ tiny kitchen, while Carlos poured a glass of orange milk for each one of them. Their movements were not synchronized, but they all bore the same mannerisms that he had observed on the original Cecil. “Let’s take this from the beginning, shall we?” Carlos said, resting the three glasses on the table in front of the other men.

“You know, the last few days have been very stressful at the Station. Lately, news stories are swarming like bees, literally flying inside the station written on bees, through every open window, and Intern Pandora, who was fatally allergic to bees, was stung by one bringing the news of Mayor Winchell’s fifth resignation for this week.” The Cecil sitting on the left stopped and took a deep breath, leaving the Cecil on the far right to take over just a moment later. “Not to mention that the City Council announced a new law, stating that all shows should be from now on simultaneously broadcast in three languages, English, Dance and the Vologda dialect of Russian, and only Pandora was fluent enough to translate my show in Russian - so now I have to spend hours with a dictionary and Google translate and I still can’t pronounce ‘щ’ correctly!” After finishing that sentence with a high pitched sob, Cecil Number Three took a gulp of milk, put down his now half-empty glass and continued, in a slightly calmer voice. “As you understand, I’ve been under a lot of stress these days. And sometimes, here in Night Vale, when someone is on the brink of exhaustion, their body may produce a physical copy of the person, so that they can manage to multi-task and avoid burnout.”

Carlos was standing perfectly still, listening intently to Cecils’ description of the situation. ‘Truly remarkable’ he thought once again ‘and incredibly handy, on certain occasions.’  
“So, you can clone yourself, right?” he asked, still unsure of the mechanics of this special ability.

“Well, not exactly clone.” Cecil Number One answered. “We all share the same consciousness and memories, so the best description would be ‘one person with multiple bodies’. We are all controlled by one and only brain, but it’s more efficient to manifest separate bodies, instead of spawning extra limbs and members on one body.”

Carlos nodded in silence. He studied these three men, or bodies of the same person, as was previously explained to him. Their sweet characteristics, Cecil’s characteristics, were affected by anxiety and lack of sleep; his luminous eyes shadowed by dark circles and faint wrinkles drawing a couple of delicate streams on his forehead. He was still lovely though, all three of them were, and these moments of silence in Carlos’ company probably worked their way to calm the Cecils down.

Carlos silently blames himself for this outcome; had he been a little more considerate to Cecil, he might have helped him alleviate the stress that brought him to this situation, splintered in three pieces and worn out. However, he too had been very busy the last few days, the readings on the air quality machines being even more unusual than most days, and unusual for Night Vale standards would mean dangerous to an apocalyptic level in the real world. Although at the moment his greatest concern were the three men in his kitchen, of whom he had grown so fond the last months.

“So, how long does this usually last?” he asked again, trying to sate his scientific curiosity and keep a relaxed conversation.

“Oh, I am not sure. It started five days ago, when I collapsed in the bathroom and I woke up in three different places. It has only happened to me once, during my first week of internship in the station –Station Management had me running all sorts of errands, like writing their supermarket list in the form of iambic pentameter, while everyone knows it’s supposed to be written in dactylic hexameter.” Cecil Number Three rolled his eyes, as the other two ones finished their orange milk. “But, I have this high school friend who works in a top-secret post at the Randy Newman Memorial Night Vale Airport and his job is so stressful that he’s been living with two separate bodies for over a year. His wife doesn’t seem to mind.” he chuckled.

Carlos smirked at the innuendo and his train of thoughts took a completely different turn. It had been over a week since he has met his boyfriend and almost two weeks since they had spent the evening together –this being a euphemism, as Cecil was always eager to spend the night and the next morning and maybe a bit of the noon together, and Carlos could not resist the temptation. And no matter how many of him were currently in his kitchen, they all were his boyfriend –the very attractive man that had intimidated him at first with his straight-forwardness and his suggestiveness, that offered him many months’ worth of fantasies until Carlos finally mustered the courage to ask him out and experience these fantasies sevenfold.

“Isn’t that considered polygamy? I thought that it was outlawed in Night Vale.” Carlos said, trying to keep the conversation casual and his mind from drifting to his carnal desires.

“Not really.” Cecil Number Two answered. “He identifies as one entity, regardless of his multitude of bodies, so he is treated as one person. If you check the Coital and Relationship forms, you’ll see that there’s intentionally a loophole about such situations. The City Council is very understanding when it comes to matters of love.” His voice had dropped an octave and was unmistakably the one he used during his and Carlos’ very private moments, and that’s all Carlos needed to hear in order to understand that Cecil was sharing his thoughts on a particular subject.

Carlos looked away, trying to appear nonchalant, while in reality he was mentally checking whether he had changed the sheets and stocked up on lubricant. “So, it’s half past midnight…” he said, glancing at the wall clock. “I guess you’d want to relax, after overworking an entire week.” His voice too was now raspy and throaty, completely ruining the cool façade he was going for.

“Actually, I’ve had a caffeine injection this morning –all three of us did. We won’t be able to sleep for the next hours, until the shot wears out naturally…” the voice was caught in a sigh and the next Cecil took over, “…unless we engage in vigorous activity.”

Of course he didn’t have to say more.

“Upstairs. Now.” Carlos muttered, as he grabbed the nearest Cecil by the hand and dragged him out of the chair, the other two hurrying to follow them.

 

* * *

The moment they reached the bedroom, Carlos’ hands grabbed Cecil’s face into a searing kiss, swallowing the other man’s breath hungrily. He didn’t know if this was Cecil’s original body or one of the two that had manifested earlier this week, but it sure felt like his boyfriend, as soft lips were sliding against his and his skillful tongue was probing Carlos’ teeth and… This sensational mouth was also worrying his left earlobe with small nibs and blowing hot breaths in his temple… No, it was also licking his jawline, tracing the arteries that run down to his collarbone, pulse throbbing under that skillful tongue… That was also licking Carlos’ lips… And his ear… At the same time…

And then he realized what was going on and he almost fainted by the rush of blood away from his head and to his nether regions.

Cecil broke the kiss and looked him with eyes flaming from arousal. “You have no idea how much I missed you, my lovely, perfect Carlos.” Before he had time to answer to that statement, the Cecil on his right turned his head roughly to the side, enveloping his mouth with his lips. The same lips he had kissed moments ago were now on his throat and a new but oh so familiar pair were once again inviting his tongue for a dive in the sweetest cavern it’s ever been. A pause –a quick pause after long breathless moments of exchanging heat- and it took only a breath’s time to have his t-shirt shoved up his torso and off his head. Hands, lips, fingertips were now freely drawing maddening patterns on his upper body, caressing, sucking, pinching, tickling every inch of skin they could find, tantalizing him with the slow rate it took them to reach the throbbing bulge of his jeans and rub a flat palm on it.

“Tell me where you want me, Carlos.” the mouth that has been kissing him whispered, so close to his mouth he could feel the words forming on these sinful lips.

A montage of possibilities flashed though Carlos’ eyes and he tried to speak, he opened and closed him mouth, but his linguistic abilities have totally shut down and his vocal cords produced only guttural sounds that would make no sense but to his current partner. Cecil, the one that had been on his left side, traced the button of his jeans and undid it with a flick of the wrist, as the third one grabbed his jeans and his underwear and slid the last pieces of clothing off his body.

The wave of air that hit his fully-erect member was instantly replaced by the velvet sensation of fingers, too many fingers on the sensitive skin, and then a tongue, barely touching the tip, roaming lazily in circular motions, lapping up the precum that was oozing from the slit. Carlos moaned into the mouth he was still engaged in, but broke the kiss for a strong gasp of air when he felt another tongue joining the lush licks on his penis. Two Cecils looked up at him, their eyes gleaming with desire and their mouths preoccupied with Carlos’ cock and he rolled his head back when one of them swallowed the member in one fluid motion, while the other paid attention on his balls and perineum. He was already shuddering and he was certain he wouldn’t last much longer.

The Cecil that was standing up ran his fingers through Carlos’ locks and fisted his hair, roughly enough to make him wince, but Carlos couldn’t mind when he was receiving such lavish attention on his genitals. “Come for me, my love.” Shivers coursed down his spine and a growl surged from his throat, when a tongue subtly teased his entrance. Another primitive sound and he was coming hard, inside an eager mouth that swallowed the hot spurts of liquid.

It took him a moment of two to remember to breathe, as the Cecils stood up and smiled at him, all brandishing a devilish grin on their beautiful mouths. Without any further delay, they started undressing themselves, small piles forming on every corner of the room as clothes were carelessly tossed aside, and Carlos didn’t know where to look as the three men were stripping on a different rhythm, each one more enthralling than the other. He was quickly growing hard again to the most seducing sight he had ever witnessed and the moment one of the Cecils removed his underwear he was lifted and tossed on the mattress, pinned under the helplessly aroused Carlos.

“I didn’t know… you had a thing… for foursomes” he said, moaning out his words as Carlos thrush his pelvis on his, rubbing their erections together. Carlos wanted to explain to him that he never did, that even in his wildest fantasies he couldn’t imagine having so many and so erotic partners, and of course his previous experiences could not match up to this one, but how could he articulate any thoughts when he saw one of the neglected Cecils, now completely divest of clothes and rock hard, walking to the bedside drawer and reaching for the bottle of lube and the condoms.

“Top or bottom?” a voice sounded from behind him, as a wrapper was torn open and the bottle was uncapped.

“Both.” Carlos was glad to be able to answer precisely what he was thinking before he lost control, when a hand slipped between him and the man under his body and took hold of his cock, rolling a condom down his length and slicking him up with a dollop of lubricant. Someone was sucking on Carlos’ fingers but Carlos pulled his hand and stuck the fingers in his mouth, mixing the foreign saliva with his own and a chocked whimper echoed in the room by one of the men. Soon, the moist fingers were rubbing Cecil’s entrance and it took minimum time for them to slide in and for Cecil to start rocking against them. “Do it Carlos… he said “inside…”. It didn’t take further encouragement to bury his dick inside his boyfriend and elicit the sweetest sound from the man underneath him.

His movements came to a halt, as he felt hands touching his ass, slowly parting his cheeks open and a river of cool fluid trickling down the sensitive skin. “Oh fuck me” he moaned, when he realized the intentions of the men behind his back and his hips gave a rough thrust forward. They complied with his request and fingers were working their way inside of him, in tandem with his own motion, stretching him open enough to accommodate what was coming. One more click of the bottle, the momentary feeling of emptiness and then something hard was pressing inside him, prying him open inch by inch and Carlos cried out at the wanted intrusion and the fullness. And from then on, he couldn’t determine the flow of time and the sequence of events, as he was melting into the hot bodies surrounding him, filling him and engulfing him in any way possible, voices composing a symphony of high notes of desperation, finally reaching the long-awaited climax and the orgasmic catharsis.

 

* * *

 

The thick, impenetrable darkness of the night slowly crept away, the void crawling back to the shadowy corners that the desert sun could not reach, and a faint ticking sound dragged Carlos out of his sleepy haze. He stretched to make the annoyance stop and his muscles groaned with soreness, reminding him of last night’s –and early morning’s- activities. No sound but a steady pace of inhales and exhales could be heard in the room, confirmed by little puffs of air on Carlos’ bare shoulder. He closed his eyes, relishing that blissful feeling of calm, the single body next to him in complete surrender to fatigue. There was one Cecil, lying on his belly, with only a sheet to cover the dip of his back and the swell of his bottom. The duplicates could not be seen, heard or felt anywhere near him, and trusting his senses he assumed they might have disappeared for a while or for good. He sighed at the memories of the last hours and the corners of his mouth formed a lazy smile, as he wondered whether there would be any nights as wild as the previous one and whether he’d be able to make it out alive the next time.

‘Not that I could think of any better way of way of dying’, he silently chuckled, and spent the rest of the morning trying to count the faint body hairs of Cecil’s arms that gleamed golden under the sunlight.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, you made it to the end! Congratulations and thank you for staying until the end of the fic. If you leave any kudos, comments, suggestions, corrections, insults, etc. you'd make me a very happy person! (Yes, even the insults will be appreciated, by my inner masochist.)
> 
> And now, a word from our authoress (because she denies to realize her degree is a waste of time):  
> \- Iambic pentameter is a commonly used metrical line in traditional verse and verse drama, like in Shakespeare's plays and sonnets.  
> \- Dactylic hexameter is a form of meter - rhythmic scheme, used in Ancient Greek and Latin poetry, e.g. the Homeric epics.  
> \- Why persimmon? Google "lotus eaters".  
> \- The letter [щ] in Russian is pronounced like a long and harsh "sh" (tip: blow out a 'shsh' with the teeth closed) and its full name is "voiceless alveolo-palatal fricative".
> 
> P.S. I haven't read John Green's "An Abundance of Catherines", but I'm on tumblr all day long so I saw the title and I like and I stole it. Sorry.


End file.
